by Jessica Kennedy

“I don’t understand why God allows me to do stuff that hurts me. Doesn’t He love me?” I asked, confused.

 “It’s because He loves you that He allows you to make choices—even bad ones,” my mother explained.

 “That makes no sense,” I said as a tear glided down my cheek.

 “You’ll understand when you have children. There have been times I knew you were headed down the wrong path, but I had to let you find that out for yourself. How many times have I told you not to do something, because something bad would happen?”

“A lot.”

“Now think about this: When you did it anyway and you got hurt, what happened?”

“You usually let me cry on your shoulder.”

“You’re my child and I forgave you. We are all God’s children. The love I have for you is the closest thing to God’s love that you can ever experience.”

~~~~~~~

 Scenes like to this reoccurred throughout my life. My mom was right. For other examples, I had only to open the Bible. I read, “He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities“ (Psalm 103:10, NIV).

God allows us to stray, but as soon as we falter, and seek His forgiveness, He is there. When the Israelites were wandering in the desert, following their rescue from Egypt, they repeatedly strayed from God. He let them stray, let them deal with the consequences of their disobedience, but always guided them, and never abandoned them.

When I rebelled as a teenager against my parents’ rules and they punished me, they never withheld their love. I skipped school, drank alcohol, and lied. My actions disappointed them, but they forgave me.

The Lord always forgives and looks upon us with perfect love. Murder, rape, adultery, lying, or stealing—no action can destroy His love for us.

“You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call to you” (Psalm 86:5, NIV).

~~~~~~~

At age 26, I suffered a stroke due to complications from spinal meningitis. It left me a legally blind, ventilator-dependent quadriplegic. Mom spent day after day by my side in the hospital. She put her life on hold. Her focus turned almost entirely to me.

When she brought me home, she comforted me, bathed me, and exercised my limbs. She cared for my needs while ignoring her own. For more than a year she assumed responsibility for my care—twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. After exhaustion threatened to overtake her, she hired part-time caregivers to relieve her.

Slowly I began to exert my independence, and she resumed more of her usual activities. For three years my caregivers accepted responsibility for me forty to fifty hours a week. My mother and father cared for me in their off time.

Then, without explanation or notice, my caregivers quit.

Once again my mom came to my aid. Now pain etched her face and she rubbed her ailing hip. She had fractured her lower spine and it pinched a nerve. The doctors told her the only hope for relieving the pain was surgery, but that required three weeks of bed rest—a luxury she did not have.

For weeks she suffered silently. She missed work and dropped other responsibilities. She limped through the day and attempted to hide the grimaces and worries. Unpaid bills stacked up alongside the pain, but regardless of her weak hip and mounting bills she continued to care for me. Her dedication never waned.

Because she couldn’t stay on her feet enough to care for me and also work at her regular job, she had to give up her respiratory therapist position. She never mentioned a word of this sacrifice. Finally the situation changed, allowing her to have the surgery. She is now able to walk with little or no pain as long as she avoids standing for long periods of time.

My mother’s love is greater than I can fathom, but the Lord’s love for us is even greater.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

My actions, no matter how deplorable, have not driven Him away and never will.  A parent’s love, while great, can never surpass God’s love for us.

Jessica Kennedy lives in McKinney, Texas. She has a BA in European History. She pursues many kinds of writing, but especially enjoys writing inspirational Christ-centered essays based on her personal experience.